Put Your Dreams Away For Now
by fictorium
Summary: OUaT/The Good Wife crossover - When Regina and Henry are endangered, Emma turns to an old friend for help - Kalinda. Past!Emma/Kalinda, present!Regina/Emma.
1. Chapter 1

**OUaT/The Good Wife crossover - When Regina and Henry are endangered, Emma turns to an old friend for help - Kalinda. Past!Emma/Kalinda, present!Regina/Emma**.

Emma ushers them through arrivals at O'Hare: Henry wide-eyed and excitable, Regina sullen and withdrawn. If it seems ungrateful that Regina be so uninterested in her first trip out of Storybrooke, Emma doesn't remark on it. They have more pressing concerns.

She scans the gathered crowd anxiously, unsure how far Gold's reach truly extends; even Regina can't say with any certainty. Emma corrals their bags and makes sure everyone has everything, playing Mom in a way she's not remotely comfortable with.

But then she catches the darting movement out of the corner of her eye, the familiar shock of dark hair and leather jacket that, more than anything else, let Emma exhale fully for what feels like the first time in days.

"Come on," she urges, heading straight for the short-term parking exit. She's relieved when Regina doesn't protest and Henry doesn't pepper her with questions. It's only in the open space of the parking lot that she finally slows down, falling into step with the familiar figure just a few feet away.

"We have to stop meeting like this," the familiar, jumbled accent is like a symphony to Emma's ears.

"You suggested the cloak and dagger, K," Emma replies, dropping her bags on the slick tarmac and pushing past Regina to gather Kalinda in an awkward but much-needed hug.

Regina clears her throat behind them, and Emma reluctantly lets go.

"We'll do introductions in the car," Kalinda says tersely, nodding towards a huge, black SUV parked over two spaces. "Does the kid get carsick?"

"My name's Henry," he pipes up. "And no, I don't."

"Good," Kalinda says, opening the driver's side door. "You owe me for this, Em."

Emma wants to laugh when Kalinda opens the apartment door. It's like a replica of the place Emma left behind in Boston two years ago, although maybe some of the colors are a little off. But the sparse kitchen with nothing but juice in the fridge, the empty smooth surfaces that extend across the room, the almost complete absence of furniture: it feels like coming home.

Not that Kalinda had anywhere like this when Emma knew her. Back then it was motel rooms and sometimes the occasional four-star hotel charged on expenses. Or the backseats of cars (not the Bug, back then it was the Jeep that died every two thousand miles) .

"Are you sure this is okay?" Emma asks, wincing as Henry goes running off towards the windows. Chicago has a pretty skyline, there's no denying that, but how does she explain to a twelve year-old that they're not going to be playing tourists any time soon?

"Wouldn't be here if it wasn't," Kalinda says with a shrug. "I'm going to stay with… well, with a friend. So this is all yours for as long as you need, okay?"

"A friend?" Emma teases, falling back into old habits. "This friend wouldn't be that nice lady lawyer who offered to help us, would it?"

"You don't need a lawyer," Kalinda says, shutting it down. Unfortunately for her, that's all the evidence Emma needs.

"Is there a shower?" Regina interrupts, finally coming to life after another long spell of silence. She looks exhausted, irritated and impossibly gorgeous.

"Down the hall," Kalinda points in the general direction. "The bedroom has an ensuite, or there's a bathroom at the end."

"Swanky place," Emma mutters, and Kalinda just smirks.

"You've got my cell," Kalinda reminds her. "But you'll be safe here."

"I'm not sure I believe that, K," Emma says sadly. "But it won't be your fault if we're not, okay?"

"Emma?" Henry calls from where he's pressed against the floor-length kitchen window.

"Coming," Emma replies, and she feels suddenly very alone as Regina marches off in search of the showers while Kalinda slips back out of the front door like a ghost.


	2. Chapter 2

Henry refuses to sleep in the same room as them, no matter how much Regina insists. Emma watches them both like a hawk as they sit on the sofa and argue; it's one of only two pieces of furniture in the room.

"Henry, it's important that we know you're safe."

"I want my own space," he says, obstinate to a fault. Regina would call that fault genetic, while Emma's pretty sure it's learned behavior.

"The door is triple-locked," Emma points out. "He'll be fine here on the couch, won't you kid?"

Even as she says it, risking Regina's wrath, Emma knows she'll sleep as lightly as ever, checking the kid and the locks as often as she can get away with. This is just a first step, no guarantees.

Henry pulls out his sleeping bag to make the point, and Regina, in her robe and with a towel wrapped around her hair like it's just a regular evening at home, relents. She gets up and motions with her head towards the bedroom.

"Goodnight, Henry," Regina says gently, pulling him in for a hug even as he struggles with the sleeping bag. He squirms a little but accepts a kiss on top of his head. Emma follows up by ruffling his hair on the way past.

"Goodnight," she adds. "You come and wake us if anything seems weird, okay? Anything, Henry."

"Yeah," he says, rummaging now for his pajamas. "Whatever you say, Moms."

Henry thinks that's adorable, calling them 'Moms'. Emma's inclined to agree, but not when he sounds so exasperated. She smiles at him before entering the bedroom, where Regina is already unpacking and folding their clothes into drawers.

"Hey," Emma warns. "We don't know how permanent this is, yet."

"That's no reason for everything I own to be creased," Regina snaps, but there's color in her cheeks again, maybe from the hot water, and she's not the monosyllabic wreck she was on the flight. These days, Emma's learning to count her blessings.

"You need a hand?" Emma asks.

"No," Regina says, firmly. "But you need a shower."

"Aye, aye captain," Emma says, finishing off with a mock salute. She kicks off her boots and strips her clothes as she walks, leaving a trail of dirty laundry just to annoy Regina. A little bit of normalcy will go a long way, Emma hopes.

The shower is a good one, and as she steps under the spray Emma thinks she can finally feel the last traces of soot and smoke being rinsed away. She closes her eyes as the jasmine shampoo runs over her face, trying not to think of the broken town they left behind. It still hurts, Emma thinks, to know that everyone has gone on without her. The first family she ever knew, jerked back to an unbelievable land by the breaking of a curse.

Only Emma (because she was never touched by the curse, much like Henry), Regina (who cast it) and Gold (who apparently created it, but Regina won't be drawn on the subject) were left behind in the ruins of Storybrooke. Gold, furious that the curse had been broken, had promised to kill Regina—to kill them all. Emma had knocked him out and bought them just enough time to run, but there's no way of knowing how far behind he might be.

She shuts off the water once it starts to run a little cold, and steps back into the bedroom wrapped in fluffy red towels.

"See?" She says to Regina. "Clean enough for you, your Majesty?"

Regina's face darkens with a scowl. Okay, still too early for that, Emma notes.

"He's asleep," Regina says after a moment, nodding at the now-closed bedroom door. "Two pages of his comic and out like a light."

"Good," Emma says, her eyes raking up Regina's bare legs as she lounges on the double bed. She's managed to unearth a plate and a sharp knife, slicing up a couple of apples for an impromptu snack. Two glasses filled to brimming with ice and water sit on coasters on the beside table, and the thought of Kalinda even owning coasters strikes Emma as pretty hilarious.

"Comfortable?" She asks, with just the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. Regina has that infuriating ability to look like she belongs anywhere; maybe it's because she's royalty, Emma thinks.

"It's fine," Regina says, with a shrug. She pops a slice of apple between her lips, biting down and drawing Emma's attention to her mouth. "Once I moved that hammer, anyway."

Emma looks behind her, at the sledgehammer propped against the wall. She supposes it explains the plaster damage underneath the room's giant mirror, and if Kalinda is anything like she used to be that won't be her only hiding place in this sparse little apartment.

"Can't hurt to have another weapon lying around," Emma says quietly, looking at her own holstered gun on the floor and the knife by Regina's side. "We should consider stocking up."

"He won't have an army," Regina points out, reaching for another piece of apple. Emma steps closer, reaches for her own piece before chewing on it thoughtfully.

"No," Emma agrees, crawling onto the bed on her hands and knees. Regina's black silk robe isn't covering much of anything, and Emma's far too tempted after three days with nothing more than a few frantic kisses in the now abandoned Bug, and in the bathrooms at Logan. She worried, of course, that because their relationship shattered the curse, Regina might not wish to continue it. Emma is fairly sure that she shouldn't want to continue it either, but she's had problems walking away from Regina from the first time she laid eyes on her, and nothing about that seems to have changed.

"Something you wanted?" Regina drawls, lazy and almost content. It's like none of this is really happening, for a moment; it's like they're not running for their lives.

"Uh huh," Emma says, nodding as she reaches for the loose knot of Regina's robe


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh," Regina sighs happily. Emma can see the taut lines around Regina's mouth smoothing out, the creases on her forehead fading away. "And what exactly do you want?"

"This," Emma says, pulling Regina's robe apart but then leaning over her to snag one of the glasses from the table. "So thirsty."

Regina glares, because even now she's unaccustomed to being denied everything she wants. And the flush on her chest and the fire in her eyes suggest that right now, Regina wants nothing but Emma.

But Emma wants a little control back in her life after these chaotic few days. She wants something familiar, something she can dictate with her own words and actions. No more running around like a victim, not tonight.

"Mmm," she says, licking her lips after taking a long sip from the glass. "I needed that. What do you need, Regina?"

They're talking quietly, mindful of the smaller space and only one closed door between them and their sleeping son, but Emma can already see the slightly desperate way Regina's breath hitches in her throat, and doesn't miss the frustration of Regina biting down gently on her own bottom lip.

"I'm sure you know by now, dear," Regina replies. "Unless you're overwhelmed with all the memories of your ex, since we're in her bed."

"Kalinda didn't have this place when I knew her," Emma says, sliding an ice cube from the glass into her mouth and crunching it with relish. "But jealousy is an interesting development, coming from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Regina hisses, propping herself up a little further on her elbows. She'd have an easier time looking indignant if her robe hadn't fallen open, exposing her bare breasts to Emma's hungry gaze.

"A few weeks ago you'd have died rather than admit you feel anything about me," Emma says, quite calmly. "Especially not something as strong as jealousy."

"I'm not… jealous," Regina flounders, unconvincing. A lot of her familiar masks have fallen aside as Emma unearthed the truth, as the curse broke around them, and now it's both thrilling and terrifying to finally see the real person underneath it all. "You flatter yourself, Miss Swan."

"Hey," Emma reminds her. "Don't go back to that. First names or bust, right?"

"Fine. Em-ma," Regina draws the two syllables out into a childish taunt. "Are you done teasing me, Emma? How about you put that glass down and start doing something more useful with that pretty little mouth, Emma? Hmm?"

"You really are fucking impossible," Emma sighs, running her free hand through her wet hair. She's about to put the glass down when the idea strikes her. She reaches into the glass and plucks the largest chunk of ice from it, before putting the glass back where it belongs. "But look at you, all hot and bothered…"

Regina's dark eyes light up as Emma's hand hovers over her chest, cool water splashing in one drip and then another.

"Want me to cool you down?" Emma asks, unable to resist the cheesy line. Regina just smirks, challenging as ever.

With the cube pinched between thumb and forefinger, Emma presses it against the base of Regina's throat. That it's wet from the glass makes it easy to glide along the sharp line of her collarbone, and Emma smiles at the first cautious gasp that falls from Regina's lips; ice queen indeed.

From there Emma traces loops much like her own signature over the plane of Regina's chest, slowing the pace as she approaches each dusky pink areola. "You like?" Emma asks in almost a whisper. She's hoping the answer is yes because she's enjoying the view too much to want to stop.

"Mmmm," Regina confirms, arching her back slightly to encourage Emma to continue. Emma changes course, raising the melting ice to Regina's mouth, tracing each lip with a rounded corner before bending to kiss her and let her tongue retrace the ice's path.

"I've missed you," Emma says softly against Regina's mouth.

"I've been right here," Regina whispers in reply.

And that's where Emma's hastily concocted plan crumbles. She's been nursing a vision of teasing Regina for hours, of running ice over hipbones and nipples using her fingers and then her mouth, but the urgency is too great. Perhaps tomorrow (because they have a tomorrow, and should have another after that, now) Emma can get into the elaborate games. Tonight she needs the immediacy, the contact, the heat of Regina and nothing in the way of it.

The remnant of the ice is thrown on the floor as Emma kisses Regina again, this time pressing her palms against Regina's cheeks, trying to temper the desperation a little with sweetness. Regina, for her part, responds exactly as Emma had hoped, leaning up into the kiss and then leveraging their bodies until Regina can roll on top.

It's one flick of her fingers to undo Emma's remaining towel, and another to tease a nipple fully erect.

"Please," Emma mutters, turning her face towards the pillows with their plain white covers. "Please."

"Ssh," Regina soothes, sitting up as she straddles Emma. "I've got you."

And this is what she's been waiting for, Emma realizes. After long, dark days of running and fighting and fleeing, she needs Regina to take charge again, just for a little while.

Which Regina does smoothly, her hands already cupping and caressing Emma's breasts, thumbs stroking hard nipples. "We're okay," Regina whispers, as Emma's hands grip Regina's thighs. "We're okay."

From there she rolls off Emma, pulls her closer as they lay side by side, kissing tenderly. Regina smiles as they each guide a hand between the other's thighs, encountering slick, warm arousal that's very welcoming to determined fingers.

Their breasts pressed together, hips rocking gently in time with each other, both women find themselves moaning contentedly into their kisses. Emma's free hand is wrapped in Regina's hair, while Regina's fingers are massaging Emma's shoulder. It's not the most intense climax of their time together, but Emma feels the pleasant build and crash appear almost out of nowhere, equal parts release and relief. Regina follows a minute or so later, Emma's fingers never having stilled.

"Better?" Regina asks, sounding sleepy and fumbling with the sheets.

"Much," Emma agrees, already drifting towards the promise of comfortable and uninterrupted sleep. The last thing she remembers is Regina kissing her forehead before everything goes dark.

Emma wakes up with a jolt, feeling a hand on her shoulder, shaking her hard. She's ready to attack, to launch herself at whoever the hell is grabbing her when Regina's panicked face comes into focus.

"Get up!" Regina hisses, her grip almost bone-crushing. "There's someone here. Talking to Henry."

That's enough to get Emma moving, and she almost forgets her nakedness in her hurry. Catching herself in time, she clutches at Regina's robe and then for the holstered gun she left on the floor, approaching the bedroom door quickly and quietly. Regina is throwing on yesterday's clothes, ready to follow.

Emma throws the door open and brandished the gun. She's beyond relieved to see that Henry's company is Kalinda, although it means Henry must have unchained the door to let her in and that's a risk he should know better than to take.

"Nice welcome," Kalinda says drily, sipping at her takeaway coffee. There are other cups, and some promising bags of what might be food sitting on the kitchen counter.

"You could have told me you were coming," Emma grouses, as Regina barrels into her back. "It's okay, babe. Just Kalinda."

"What are you doing with my son?" Regina demands as she comes out of the bedroom, stepping away from Emma. "Henry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Henry sighs. "Besides, it's her apartment. Was I supposed to lock her out of it?"

Emma wants to scream that—yes—he should have, but she's too relieved and too tired to do any such thing. He should have come to wake them, she thinks, but there's no telling this kid anything once he has an idea in his head.

"Thanks for the breakfast, K," Emma says carefully, trying to defuse the situation a little. Regina is still bristling as she stands next to Emma, and there's some serious staring of daggers in Kalinda's general direction.

"I've got some stuff here you said you might need," Kalinda replies, gesturing to the duffel bag by her feet on the floor. Emma lets her gaze linger on the knee-high boots, feeling a little guilty for checking them out when Regina is right there in the room, but hey, Emma doesn't get caught.

"Pass me a coffee," Regina says to Henry, who obeys easily enough. "And please, Ms Sharma, tell us what you've found out."


End file.
